


Wait for It...Legendary!

by jazsy



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: AU, F/M, How I Met Your Mother - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-01
Updated: 2012-12-01
Packaged: 2017-11-19 23:21:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/578757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jazsy/pseuds/jazsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for this prompt: "A twist on How I Met Your Mother with Kirk being Bones' wingman trying to get him back into the dating game after his divorce. Little by little, the story progresses to the end where Bones is telling Joanna how he met Jim Kirk and how they're married. Points for Uhura and Spock being the Lily/Marshall perfect couple of doom! Personally I just want Kirk saying legendary and Bones telling him he uses that word way too much."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wait for It...Legendary!

**Author's Note:**

> Charlie Chaplin entered a Charlie Chaplin look-alike contest and came in third. I really hope I hit all the right buttons with this.
> 
> I have used some of Barney's lines verbatim, because why mess with greatness? The episodes that most significantly influenced this fic are: "The Pilot", "Sweet Taste of Liberty" and "Zip Zip Zip". The poet Bones quotes is Robin Skelton.
> 
>  
> 
> A big thank-you goes to thalialunacy for listening and reading this over to make sure there were no gaping plot pits of despair.

_"Joanna, come sit down, sweetheart. I'm about to tell you one hell of a story- the story of how I met Jim."  
  
"Am I being punished for something?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Come on, Jo-nanna! I'm the star of this story, so you know it's totally awesome. High five!"  
  
"Yeah, ok, fine. But I hope it doesn't take too long. Tiffany has the new Robin Sparkles video on DVR."  
  
"Totally uncool to leave a man hanging like that, Jo. I am not putting my hand down until it gets the respect it deserves!"  
  
"It was about 10 years ago, Jojo, and I had ... a completely different life. I had just gotten divorced from your mom, and was spending a lot of time at this bar called Scotty's, trying to get back into the dating game, because everyone said It Was Time. And unfortunately, I was, as Jim would say-"  
  
"-epically striking out."_  
  
~ 10 years prior ~  
  
McCoy sighs as the pretty brunette in the green dress walks back to her friends, carrying the drink  _he_  bought for her. Her, 'I'm sorry, but I'm going to be really busy for the next...few months' had been obvious but polite, and McCoy wonders if he really looks that pathetic.  
  
He turns to close out his tab, done pretending to be good company for the night and wanting to check on a patient at the hospital before he goes to bed; and nearly jumps out of his skin when another man is suddenly in his personal space, throwing an arm around his shoulder and leaning over him to order 'two more of whatever he's having'.   
  
McCoy opens his mouth to protest but at the same moment, the other man turns to him, all laughing blue eyes and charming smile, and sticks out a hand.  
  
"Jim Kirk."  
  
McCoy is slightly taken aback, but figures that hell, the easiest thing to do is probably just go with it, and so he shakes the hand and answers, "Leonard McCoy."  
  
Jim nods and grins. "Bones, I am gonna teach you how to live."  
  
What the- "Bones?"  
  
"Lesson one: Lose the beard. It doesn't go with your suit."  
  
McCoy looks down. "I'm not wearing a suit."  
  
"Lesson two: Get a suit. Suits are cool. Exhibit A." This is said with a grand hand gesture down at Jim's expensive-looking grey suit, and punctuated with a wink and confident head nod to a girl at the other end of the bar. She looks away, blushing and almost giggling.  
  
"Lesson three is a little game I like to call, 'Haaaaaaaaaaaave you met Len?'"  
  
And before McCoy can react, Jim is pulling him forward and shoving him in the face of a beautiful blonde in a low-cut ruffly dress. Jim hands McCoy his drink, smiles at the girl, and says, "Have you met Len?" before sliding away.  
  
McCoy smiles awkwardly. "Hi," he says, "I'm Len."  
  
Five minutes later, he is sitting in a booth next to Jim and across from another couple: a severe-looking guy with pointy ears and his girlfriend, who is dressed to kill (and McCoy wouldn't be surprised if she has). "So," he says, deliberately accentuating his Southern DrawlTM, "thanks for introducing me to the bartender's girlfriend."  
  
The other three wince and make a hissing,  _ooo_  noise together.  
  
Jim turns around and raises his drink to the short Scottish man standing behind the bar, who nods in response. Once he's facing away, Jim just shakes his head in confusion. "How did Scotty even  _land_  a hot girl like that? He doesn't even own a suit."  
  
"Your fascination with suits is quite illogical."  
  
"What's illogical is not wearing a suit!"  
  
The girl across the table rolls her eyes and extends a hand to McCoy. "I'm Nyota Uhura, and this," she gestures to the man next to her (who seems to be able to express an admirable range of thoughts with just his eyebrows), "is my fiance, Spock."  
  
She's smiling this proud little smile, and McCoy doesn't miss the brief, loving look Spock gives her, his arm tightening around her shoulders. And even though the very thought of marriage still makes McCoy cringe, he can't bring himself to ruin their moment, and so he asks, "When's the big day?"  
  
"Well, he just asked me today, so-"  
  
"-so they won't be taking the leap off that bridge for awhile yet." Jim grins winningly and takes a sip of his drink. "By the way, did I congratulate you two?"  
  
~  
  
 _"I thought that was the last I'd ever hear from Jim, but he somehow managed to find out where I worked-"  
  
"I didn't have to 'find out' anything, Bones, I-"  
  
"Shut up, Jim, I'm the one telling the story."  
  
"Oh, I see how it is. Well by all means, continue on, Han-style."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Solo."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
_"Star Wars _? Bones, your daughter is so uncultured. It's because you refuse to suit up."  
  
"I did last week."  
  
"It was a blazer!"  
  
"Um, guys?"  
  
"Sorry, sweetheart. As I was saying, after he found out where I worked, Jim came by and managed to charm my phone number out of the huc on my floor. So about a week after I met him, I got a phone call."_  
  
~  
  
McCoy is wandering along the near-empty street in the shadowy lit-up darkness that only big cities can achieve. He's headed for Scotty's, but not in a big hurry to get there, just enjoying the time to breathe a little.  
  
After meeting Jim there just over a week ago, he'd been secretly hoping to see him again, but so far he'd had no luck. McCoy had decided that it just wasn't a place Jim frequented often, which was a damn shame, because the night he'd hung out with Jim and his friends was one of the few good memories he had of this whole bar scene he'd forced himself into.  
  
His phone buzzes to life in his pocket, and McCoy glances curiously at the number he doesn't recognize before answering.  
  
"Bones! Tonight is going to be-"  
  
"Jim?"  
  
"-legendary, Bones, le. gen. wait for it- dary. Phone five!"  
  
By the time McCoy has figured out what the hell Jim is talking about, Jim has moved on.  
  
"You didn't phone five, did you? I can tell when you don't phone five, Bones."  
  
McCoy is about to answer when a taxi comes to a screeching halt right next to him. He jumps back just in time to avoid Spock as he calmly steps out, nodding to McCoy as he continues a conversation on his cell phone. Jim leans out the window after him.  
  
"Get in the cab, Bones. Spock?"  
  
Spock snaps his phone closed and extends a hand, and Uhura appears out of fucking nowhere to take it, smiling at McCoy as if this sort of thing happened all the time.   
  
"I'm sorry, Jim, but Nyota and I-"  
  
"I understand," says Jim. "Bones, get in the cab."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I need a bro. For my bro-ings on about town."  
  
"You gonna take no for an answer?" As much as McCoy had wanted to see Jim again, he doesn't think he has the energy for whatever someone like Jim might consider 'legendary'.  
  
"If by 'no', you mean, 'yes, Jim, I will join you for an evening of awesome'."  
  
"Why does Spock get to say no?"  
  
"Because he's getting laid."  
  
"Consistently," puts in Spock.  
  
McCoy sighs and gets in the cab.  
  
~  
  
He is thirty years old. That is eighteen years too old to play laser tag for a normal person, and thirty years too old for Leonard Horatio McCoy.   
  
Yet here he is, running through a warehouse lit only by neon and strobe lights, dodging behind giant yellow barrels and orange snow fencing, shooting red beams of light at screaming twelve-year-old boys.  
  
And damn but he's actually having fun.  
  
He and Jim pause to catch their breath behind a barrel tower, back-to-back with guns raised. "I had no idea laser tag even still  _existed_ ," McCoy says, when he can talk.  
  
"Yeah, well enjoy it before it becomes cool again. I give it two months," says Jim, peering around the edge of the tower. "What I  _really_  miss is Battleship. Never lost a game."  
  
McCoy raises an eyebrow. "Really. Neither have I." Not that he'd ever played completely fair, either, but Jim didn't have to know that.  
  
Jim smirks. "Really," he says, imitating McCoy's drawl. "Champions' grudgematch sometime?"  
  
"Bring it on, boy."  
  
Jim nods and checks around the corner again. "Ok, follow my lead and stay low, and never underestimate-"  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, McCoy spies one of the little urchins aiming at Jim. He whips his gun around, almost taking Jim out with his arm, and fires three times. McCoy gets the kid square in the chest, and he limps away dejectedly.   
  
"Bones! You gotta focus! You-" Jim stops mid rant, and does a double take between McCoy's gun and the retreating enemy. "You just saved my life, didn't you?" he asks with a huge grin.  
  
"Thank me later," McCoy says, and finds himself grinning for a moment before he schools his face back to business. "Now let's keep moving. Those bastards are everywhere."  
  
Twenty minutes later, they're crouched in a trench made by a black foam wall, completely surrounded. McCoy tries to strategize. "I'll lay down some cover fire, you make a run for it."  
  
"No!" Jim looks horrified. "Leave no man behind. Either we all get out of here, or no one does."  
  
He admires Jim's altruism, since he generally tends to be cynical, but it has no place here.  
  
Jim seems to somehow read McCoy's thoughts on his face. "Don't be a hero, Bones," he says, low and tight. McCoy knows he should argue, but he so wants to believe in what Jim believes in. He nods, and Jim nods in response, counting silently to three with his fingers.  
  
On three, they leap out in epic synchronicity, guns blazing-  
  
-and are immediately taken out by ten sixth-graders.  
  
McCoy and Jim look at each other, shrugging. "What now?" asks McCoy.  
  
Jim looks at him calculatingly. "You pick."  
  
~  
  
When he suggested the cigar bar, McCoy'd expected Jim to roll his eyes and say, "Bore, snore", but instead, he'd nodded approvingly and said, "I like your style, Bones. Meet you there in 30."  
  
He doesn't know what makes him do it, or at the very least he won't admit to knowing, but after he's showered and staring into his messy closet, he finds himself reaching to the back for a suit.  
  
McCoy arrives first, so he orders, then finds two empty plush leather chairs and takes one. When Jim wanders in five minutes later, he looks McCoy over just a little too long, and smiles in a way that is mostly genuinely pleased and maybe, just a little hungry.   
  
"Look. At. You. You suited in an unmistakably upward direction. And in  _pinstripes_."  
  
McCoy ignores the (miniscule, really) thrill he feels and shrugs, looking away to signal the waiter.  
  
"Emilio, my friend'll have-"  
  
"I'll have a Johnny Walker Blue, neat, and a Monte Cristo, number two."  
  
He can't help it; he stares at Jim in shock. And Jim looks back, insufferably smug.  
  
"I know what you're thinking. And yes, it will be hard to be friends with me because I'm so awesome."  
  
McCoy rolls his eyes. "Yeah, that's why."  
  
~  
  
They end up at Scotty's eventually, where McCoy, predictably, succeeds only in helping  _Jim_  chat up a beautiful woman. They've been talking for awhile, and McCoy figures this is the one Jim'll be taking home tonight. He decides that it's time for him to call it a night as well, and tries not to get caught up in the feelings of loneliness and jealousy that seem to be swirling around him.   
  
He's writing in the tip when, for the second time in space of two weeks, Jim scares the bejeezus out of him by suddenly appearing next to him like some kind of Armani ninja.  
  
"Hey," says Jim, throwing an arm around McCoy's shoulders, "Let's get out of here."  
  
"What happened with-" McCoy gestures vaguely in the direction of the girl Jim had been flirting with.  
  
Jim slides away from McCoy and leans sideways on the bar. "Eh," he says with a confident straightening of his tie and an arrogant chuck of his head, "Sometimes I like to play a little 'catch-and-release'."  
  
He's playing up, McCoy realizes, but what or why, he can't figure out. So he settles for an unimpressed, "Really. So, what, she give you the crazy eyes or someth-"  
  
"No," Jim interrupts, ducking his head and biting his lip. He's silent for a moment, then shrugs and looks up with a small smile. "Leave no man behind, right?"  
  
McCoy thinks he understands. "Right," he answers, hoping he is.  
  
~  
  
Jim insists that they head over to his place, since he claims he thinks he might have an old game of Battleship somewhere in storage. "Bones-" he starts, and suddenly McCoy has to know.  
  
"Why do you keep calling me that?"  
  
Jim looks at him curiously. "You really don't remember? I thought you'd figured it out. I guess it was pretty busy-"  
  
"Remember what? Figured out what? What are you on?" McCoy thinks that he'd definitely remember meeting Jim.  
  
Jim stops them under a streetlight and holds up his right arm, shaking his sleeve down a little. "Chick had five fucking dogs," he says. In the light, McCoy can see the imprint of a bite mark on his wrist, the size that might belong to a medium sized dog, and suddenly McCoy flashes back.  
  
~ 10 days prior ~  
  
 _It's still early, but the ER's hopping. There's a little Russian boy who fell off the monkey bars at school and knocked two teeth out; a teenage girl with bright red hair who got mildly electrocuted while working on a science project; a blonde man being treated for a dog bite, which doesn't seem to be serious enough to keep him from trying to charm the nurse. In the bed next to that guy, there's a dark-haired woman who was found unconscious in an alley, blunt force head injury. She's stable now, and sleeping, but she had no ID on her, and there've been no leads as to her identity, yet.  
  
"I have no history but the length of my bones," McCoy says to no one, quoting one of his favorite poets.   
  
Just then there's a commotion from the other side of the ER, and McCoy dashes out, missing the way the blonde man has been staring at him._  
  
~   
  
"You-" McCoy doesn't even know where to begin. He's not even sure he knows how to feel about this. He finds himself suddenly very close to Jim, looking, searching those ridiculous (legendary, Jim's voice in his head supplies) blue eyes. He doesn't know what Jim had to sell to get eyes like those, but he's betting Jim will never see his first-born child.   
  
"Yep," answers Jim, with a smile that is winning and confident and completely betrayed by the way he nervously licks his lips.  
  
And suddenly, McCoy knows  _exactly_  how to feel about this.  
  
He leans closer, and Jim meets him halfway. The kiss is pretty soft at first- just Jim's lips against his, as if Jim thinks McCoy needs to be convinced. McCoy decides to hell with with that, and pushes his tongue all the way into the wet heat of Jim's mouth, all the while wrapping an arm around Jim's waist and pulling him closer. He holds even tighter when Jim gives a little moan and slides his fingers into the hair at the base of McCoy's neck.   
  
McCoy hasn't made out with anyone in public since- well, around the last time he played laser tag, and like laser tag, he'd forgotten how  _awesome_  it was.  
  
Jim pulls back first with a quiet laugh, grinning wide and breathing fast. "I live right across this street," he says, jerking his head in the general direction. "Wanna come up and play Battleship?"  
  
 _Hell fucking yes_ , McCoy thinks, but says something more witty. "I hope you're ready for a hardcore game."  
  
Jim's grin turns sly and he leans in to speak low against McCoy's ear. "That's the only way I play."  
  
~  
  
 _"And the rest is - audience say it with me - LEGENDARY."  
  
"Damnit, Jim, you use that word way too much."_


End file.
